


Baby, It's Cold Outside

by allthebeautifulthings9828



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Castiel, Car Sex, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Fallen Castiel, Finger Sucking, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Human Castiel, Impala Fic, Impala Sex, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Secret Relationship, Sex, Sex in the Impala, Smut, Sneaking Around, Sneaking Out, Snow, Top Dean, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 12:58:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthebeautifulthings9828/pseuds/allthebeautifulthings9828
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean hasn't spent time alone with Castiel in a while. It's tough to find stolen moments together when nobody knows you're in a loving relationship with your best friend. So Dean takes him to a place that he's never shown anyone. Then Castiel remembers - he's been there before in Dean's dreams. Just as they're ready to leave, though, Castiel has different ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, It's Cold Outside

_( **Note:** This one shot was inspired by the gif below.)_

"Dean, I hate the cold," mumbled Castiel miserably in the passenger seat of the Impala.

"I know you do." A hint of laughter slithered between Dean’s words, his hand casually gripping the wheel. "But you like snow. I know you do. I’ve seen you outside the bunker watching this storm."

"Yes, but I can go inside where the rooms are heated and drink coffee. I don’t like to be cold." As he spoke, Castiel burrowed deeper in Dean’s leather jacket. He’d stolen it as soon as the weather turned and refused to give it back or buy one of his own. "Where are we going exactly? Sam asked me to help with the research on the Ice Queen legend today."

"Sammy can wait a while. I wanna show you my spot," Dean replied with purposeful ambiguity.

"Your spot?"

"Yep. I’ve got a spot I go to when I need, you know, quiet. Nobody knows about it. Not even Sammy. If people knew, then it wouldn’t be my spot," explained Dean. He didn’t want to give too much away yet, but he knew his spot looked beautiful in snow and Castiel was really the only one worthy of it.

Castiel studied him as he steered the Impala through the driving snow. He felt it. Long ago, he’d grown accustomed to that silent observant creature and even felt out of place when he didn’t feel himself being studied. The road ahead narrowed and although it had been plowed and salted, he shifted to a sturdy position in his seat and gripped the wheel in both hands. It didn’t matter so much if he got hurt but he refused to put Castiel at risk.

"How come you’re bringing me to your spot, as you call it, if it’s a secret?" the former angel probed.

Dean shrugged lightly and gave a quick glance to the passenger seat. “Because you’re my guy,” he said quietly. “And we haven’t had any time together lately. Sammy and Kevin are always around and they’re always after your brain. I can’t get a word in edgewise half the time.” He shrugged again. “So I’m kidnapping you for an afternoon.”

"You could get a word in more often if we simply told them what we are to each other now," Castiel pointed out for the hundredth time in a month since they first kissed.

He sighed and subtly rolled his eyes. “I know. I know. And we could sleep in the same bed. We’ve been through this before, Cas. I need more time.” A hand passed over to Castiel’s lap and squeezed cold fingers. “It’s not always gonna be like this. Let’s just have fun today without prying eyes.”

They drove in relative silence nearly forty-five minutes north of the bunker. Dean didn’t know if Castiel even realized they crossed the state line but it didn’t seem to matter to him. Peaceful blue eyes shined brighter like gemstones against the constancy of a snowy whiteout through the window. He turned his palm up into Dean’s and slipped their fingers into a loose knot. Actions meant a lot more to him than words and holding Dean’s hand told him that he wasn’t so aggravated by the cold after all. They put up with a lot for each other and to steal quiet moments of peace where they didn’t have to worry about someone seeing a kiss or a pass of a hand through hair. Dean knew Castiel would put up with a full-on blizzard if it meant spending time alone.

Dean hadn’t visited his spot since the day after Sam came home from the hospital. The trials nearly killed his brother and he didn’t know where Castiel had gone or if they’d ever see each other again. There, that day, months afterward, Dean had the freedom to actually enjoy the first snowfall with Castiel by his side and the security that Sam was okay. Once in a while, like that moment, he let himself feel real gratitude to whatever allowed the good fortune.

The road curved around a bend at a rather sharp angle. Snow swirled through the canopy of trees flanking the road and accumulated over the six or seven inches already blanketing the ground. Dean glanced over at Castiel, who watched it all from the passenger window with the most contented expression he’d seen before. It felt like watching a soul begin to heal right before his eyes. He smiled to himself and steered the Impala around the last bend.

Through a clump of tightly grown trees, a clearing appeared and the shining surface of a lake came into view. Calm, silvery water cut through the winter white snowfall.

Silently, Dean pulled the Impala to the edge of an empty gravel parking lot. At least it was gravel when there wasn’t snow on top of it. He cut the engine and left them in silence. Cold, piercing quiet with the clarity of nature that seemed all the more sharpened in winter. Castiel’s eyes passed over the mirror surface of the lake in front of them, occasionally pausing over the snow-covered docks off in the distance sprouting from the opposite bank. A tiny hint of a smile brightened the pinkness in his full lips.

"I was not expecting this to be your spot," he commented.

"What, did you expect a bar?" Dean asked with a smirk.

Castiel nodded. “Yes,” he said in the kind of simplicity that could never have amounted to malice.

The Impala door squeaked loudly in the cold air as he climbed out into the weather. “C’mon. Can’t take in the whole view from inside my baby. Zip up that coat and let’s go.”

"I hope you know how much I love you if I’m willing to wander around this freezing weather for you," mumbled Castiel as he climbed out of the car too.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Dean rounded the hood of his car and he smirked at Castiel as he reached out and bound up his leather jacket tighter around his chest. He kissed the former angel’s cold lips, smiling softly against them. "C’mon, you belly acher."

They strolled together, leaving the Impala behind like a beacon to welcome them home when they were ready. Neither led and neither followed in submission. Instinct made them move together like one body, shoulder to shoulder, hardly saying a thing to each other. That was the way of it for Dean and Castiel. More sentiment passed between them in the silent moments than hours of conversation or short, wicked bursts of heated arguments. There was no such thing between them as awkward silence because they never were completely silent. Even when they didn’t speak, their body language and little gestures kept the never ending communication alive.

Quietly, Castiel slipped his arm around Dean’s elbow as they ambled along the snowy bank of the lake. Dean stuck his cold hands in his pockets and nudged Castiel’s shoulder with his own. A small, affectionate smirk passed from hunter to one-time angel. Sometimes he still thought of Castiel as his angel despite being forced into mortality.

"I see why you keep this place a secret," Castiel said eventually.

"Why’s that?"

"Because it’s poetic here. You like for people to see you a certain way and it’s difficult to be an intimidating hunter if they knew you read more literature than your brother and you come to poetic places like this one. This is reminiscent of the transcendentalists. Walden Pond. Thoreau. Emerson. You know."

"Yeah, I know." Dean shrugged, not remotely offended but he didn’t really put that much thought into it either. "I dunno. Parents kinda assign parts to their kids without really knowing it. Sammy was the nerdy bookworm from day one. I was good with a shotgun."

"You should learn to give yourself more credit," pressed Castiel.

"Eh." Praise made Dean unreasonably uncomfortable and he squirmed within his jacket. "I’m the most badass hunter you’ll ever meet. Nobody’s got weapons skills like I do."

Castiel smiled. “That’s true.”

A flock of small, dark colored birds took flight from a tree ahead, frightened by the presence of humans. Black smudges moved across the snowy, gray sky. Castiel watched them disappear in the distance with a momentary wistful expression.

"You miss what you were," Dean guessed quietly.

Castiel glanced at him with a measure of hesitation as if he shouldn’t answer him. Telling the whole truth in any matter often led to serious consequences for him and Dean had long since gotten used to his inability to say what he thought about anything in totality. Millions of years in Heaven’s oppressive control couldn’t be broken overnight. Signs of trauma and brainwashing especially rose to the surface in the things Castiel mumbled in his sleep.

"It’s fine, Cas. You can miss being an angel. I’m not gonna hold it against you," he added, turning his green eyes back to the sky.

"I don’t miss everything," he replied, "but wings were part of my body from the moment I was created. I’ll probably never get used to their absence."

"Understandable," Dean said with a nod.

"I feel like they’re still there sometimes and then I remember they’re not. It’s like going through the loss over and over again in a vicious cycle." Blue eyes turned down to the snow packing tightly beneath his footsteps.

Sensing his melancholic reminiscences, Dean let go of their linked elbows and threw his arm around Castiel’s shoulders. “Maybe one day it won’t feel so bad, Cas. Hell, maybe one day I’ll kill Metatron and get your grace back. I would, you know. If I could get my hands on him, he’d be dead in a second.” He pulled him close to his shoulder as they walked together around the lake.

Though he smiled against Dean’s shoulder, he didn’t seem interested in talking about the loss of his wings anymore. “It’s nice here. Cold but nice.”

"Yeah, I like it," Dean agreed as they both looked out over the water. "It’s awesome in the summer. Water’s clear and deep. Good for fishing and swimming."

"Fishing…" Castiel’s expression stiffened and then lifted to the sky. "Wait, I know this place now. This is where I met you in your dream. You were sitting on a dock fishing and I came to tell you we were being watched and I asked you to meet me somewhere secret."

"And Heaven dragged your ass back upstairs before we could meet up," said Dean, filling in the rest. "You’re right. I do come here in my dreams."

The realization struck Castiel as amazing. He looked around more intently without pulling himself away from Dean’s arm. “It looks so different covered in snow.”

Dean formed a closed mouth smile of contentment as they walked with arms wrapped around each other to keep warm. Occasionally he leaned over and kissed Castiel’s temple. The former angel seemed mesmerized by the way tree branches hung old over the lake by the weight of snow and ice. Untouched by human hands, all of the wilderness took on a virginal appearance covered by white that sparkled faintly in the light. Thousands of branches reached toward the sky like ice crystal sculptures. Most of all, the quiet of everything surrounded them. Absolute stillness, aside from steady snowfall in a fluttering descent to the ground.

A dusting of snow covered Castiel’s dark hair by the time they walked a full circle around the lake. He brushed off his shoulders and tossed a hand through his messy hair as they returned to the Impala, also covered by a fresh dusting of snow. The tension Castiel had been carrying for days appeared to have dissolved, making Dean consider the outing a complete success.

They shut themselves in the Impala and Dean revved the engine. Baby roared to life around them. It took a few minutes for the heat to get going in the old girl but Castiel didn’t even seem interested in complaining about the cold anymore. He looked peaceful. Happy even.

Castiel slid across the bench seat without saying a word. His thigh pressed firmly against Dean’s as he looped his arms around the hunter’s shoulders. Still without a word, he tilted his head to the side and mouthed open, wet kisses along the side of Dean’s neck.

"What are you doing?" Dean whispered, amused. "I thought you’d wanna get out of the cold."

"Not so cold now," whispered Castiel with warm, breathy puffs on Dean’s throat.

That was all the encouragement Dean needed. Hell, a harmless glance over breakfast was all Dean needed most of the time to start thinking about all the things they did to each other in private, stolen moments. Usually it amounted to quick, rough encounters in shadowy places in the bunker just to release the frequent buildup of tension between them. One time Castiel dragged Dean into a closet and pinned him against the wall, covering his mouth with his hand to stifle the groans and filthy entreaties for faster, harder, and yes, yes, right _there_.

Having the time and not constantly feeling the risk of being caught proved too big of a temptation for Dean there in the Impala despite the cold. He curled a hand around the back of Castiel’s head and pulled him in for a kiss as deep as it was unapologetic for feeling the way he did.

Dean peeled back his own leather jacket from Castiel's shoulders and shucked him out of his dark blue sweater in short order. Goosebumps rose along his bare arms in the chilly car, which Dean kissed a slow path from shoulder to elbow, and elbow to wrist. He took his time. He worshipped the vessel that gave him the man. The familiar taste of Castiel's skin sent heat and raw energy flooding to Dean's groin and strained the confines of his jeans.

Once Castiel pulled Dean free of his jacket and his thick fleece shirt, the discarded clothes flung into the backseat. The heat of their mouths migrated to one another again, delving into the type of never-ending kiss that allowed then to almost taste each other's souls. Sweeping tongues warmed them until the cold was all but forgotten. Hands and arms clung tightly to each other. And, taking the lead that afternoon in the snow, Dean pushed Castiel down across the bench seat.

He hovered over his former angel, bending to claim his lips in occasional kisses as he wrangled both of them free of the rest of their clothes. But the confined space made Dean a bit awkward. He yanked Castiel's jeans off and jammed his elbow into the horn at the center of his steering wheel. The brief, loud burst of the horn sent flocks of birds flying and dissolved both Dean and Castiel into a fit of laughter.

"Ow, shit," Dean laughed, rubbing his elbow. "Damn it, telling Sam and Kevin sounds better every time we get into these stupid tight spots."

Castiel's face flooded with his style of subtle laughter as he looked up at Dean from his back across the bench seat. "It's a blessing no one is out here," he chuckled. "You just announced what we're doing in here to everything out there."

Smirking wickedly over Castiel, Dean said suggestively, "Then let's give the birds and deer a show."

A pile of clothes accumulated in the backseat, forgotten and unnecessary. Castiel's hands stretched around Dean's jaw and tugged him down for a renewed kiss between his strange little smile.

"What are you smiling at?" Dean asked in a whisper.

"Us," he replied cryptically.

But Dean smiled too. The long, stubbly line of Castiel's throat arched into Dean's kisses as he fit into the lines and grooves of the warm body beneath him. Cold air cut sharply around the heat of their conjoined bodies, intensifying each touch with jumping raw nerve endings. Dean curled a strong hand around the back of Castiel's thigh and hooked that leg around his waist. The shift in position brought the sudden friction of one flushed, rigid erection against the other. Castiel sucked in an abrupt breath between clenched teeth. His hips bucked into Dean but there was no way for him to take control in the cramped confines of the Impala.

One hand gripping Castiel's thigh and the other bracing himself on the seat over his head, Dean's hips rocked just the way they both needed. Low groans slipped through both their throats, filling the car. She absorbed their secrets in the upholstery and steel. Castiel's legs tightened around Dean and he knew things progressed quickly for him. Hands left whitened prints on Dean's skin, infusing him with the tension his lover felt. He dropped to Castiel's mouth and swallowed down the moans between kisses as the former angel slowly dismantled there beneath him.

"Open, Cas," he murmured with fingers tracing his swollen, bitten lips.

Watching Castiel eagerly suck the length of his fingers, pink tongue soaking them in his own wetness, always injected a second burst of tense heat into Dean. His mind wandered to decadent images of his one-time angel lapping and sucking at the length of his agitated cock. There was time for that another time though. He wanted to feel himself inside Castiel.

With a wet pop, Dean yanked his fingers out of Castiel's mouth. Hooded blue eyes peered up at him expectantly as his spit-slathered fingers snaked between their bodies. He groaned as Dean paused with a teasing loose stroke along his cock and around his balls. Further down he passed until his fingers found Castiel's hole. Initially he began in caution but being there together, alone and unseen, brought Castiel's body to a place of readiness that felt like the vibration of a tuning fork.

His legs naturally hitched up and apart as Dean worked him open. He reached over his head, moaning and turning his head side to side, and wrapped his long hand around the door handle as if trying to keep himself grounded. With a wicked smile, Dean curled his fingers and pressed with a tortured rhythm into Castiel's most sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Dean! Oh yes, _yes_!" he hissed.

Jolting and gasping with overwhelming bursts of lust meant Dean had Castiel exactly where he wanted him. Hips twisted and he whined as his fingers pulled out.

"Greedy, greedy," teased Dean, watching his former angel writhe in search of some kind of friction.

"Quit talking and get down here," Castiel teased back as he grabbed Dean around the back of the neck and jerked him down on top of him.

"Does anyone else know you're this bossy?" Absent kisses trailed around Castiel's jawline. The head of his cock teasingly rubbed Castiel's opening but never quite gave him what he desired. "I could see how far it would go before you start cussing at me. You know," he continued with kisses and slow grinding, "filthy words just to make me get you off."

"Dean," panted Castiel, "please. Come on, please."

"Please what, angel?" Kisses fell over Castiel's forehead and over his eyelids as Dean tested how far he could push him. "What do you want?" The whispers slid between his kisses over cheekbones and down his nose.

Hesitation filled Castiel's eyes but the buildup of tension in his nerves spurned a courageous effort. He closed his eyes and his hand clawed up the back of Dean's head. The other arm reached around his waist and clenched their bodies together tightly as if he needed that security to say it.

"Tell me what I want to hear and I'll tell you what you want to hear," he whispered dryly. It wasn't up for debate and they both knew what the other wanted.

Dean's palm strayed over Castiel's cheek as his hips curled, sliding into him, whispering, "I love you, Cas."

Eyes fluttered and rolled up with the flood of pleasure coursing through Castiel's body - a sight that never got old for Dean. His full mouth formed a wide O that allowed higher pitched groans to escape. Dean found it impossible to still his rolling pelvis despite Castiel not yet saying what he wanted to hear. Sliding and grinding together rose into steady, hard thrusts. He slid an arm under Castiel's shoulders and clung close to him as they became more erratic, more frenzied. Absently, he thought he felt the car rocking with their rhythm.

Castiel's desire got the better of him and he came undone, eagerly bucking up into Dean's thrusts. "Dean," he hissed, each syllable slurred and teetered on the edge of orgasm. "Fuck me ... Fuck me, Dean ... I need you."

There it was. The last of Castiel's resistance crumbled away, leaving the rawest exposed soul there in Dean's hands. He never could verbalize himself that way until he surrendered perfectly to the moment without fear. Doing that required him to trust Dean above all other creatures in the universe.

And Dean knew it. It wasn't the filthy words themselves that stuttered his hips and ignited sparks of white hot sensation through his body. It was exactly what they implied - freedom of his personal expression and only feeling secure enough to do that with Dean. Angels weren't allowed to express those feelings. As a man, Castiel still struggled but doing it there in their afternoon alone pushed Dean off the cliff. He clawed so hard at Castiel's shoulder that he left red marks but the orgasm ripped through him so ferociously that his entire body locked up.

Before he lost the last ounces of strength, he rose up on his arm and grabbed Castiel's cock roughly. Swift flicking of his wrist jerked the former angel into a dizzying incoherent state. Castiel's body bowed off the Impala's bench seat toward Dean and his jaw hung open with the intensity of his building release. Knowing exactly what finished him off, Dean twisted his fist over the head of his cock and lowered his mouth, licking a firm line along the underside.

Strangled cries erupted from Castiel's mouth as white spurted over his taut belly and his toned chest. He shook with the force of it. Dean couldn't remember the last time he came so hard, except maybe the first time they hurriedly groped and rubbed each other off in the men's room at a diner in Wyoming.

Limp and arms dangling haphazardly around the seat, Castiel labored to get his breathing under control. He smiled laughingly up at Dean and wrapped him in his arms. They lay tangled together, protected and sheltered by the Impala from the winter storm outside.

As an afterthought, Dean leaned over the back of the seat and grabbed a rag and their clothes. "I don't really wanna get dressed but I'm not having you get sick because of me," he said affectionately as he wiped the stickiness from both of them. "The heater in my old girl only does so much these days."

"You take care of everything and everyone around you," Castiel observed in a groggy murmur. "In time, perhaps you'll let me take care of you for once."

"You do," Dean replied, though he didn't elaborate. He cupped Castiel's cheek and kissed him instead.

Castiel smiled against his lips. "Can we come back here?"

"You want to?"

"Yes," he replied with a teasing glint in his blue eyes. "I have good memories here. Once I came here with a very handsome man in a snowstorm. We had amazing sex in his car and he told me he loved me. I like it here. Just a little bit."

Smirking, Dean sorted his clothes from Castiel's. "Then we'll come back."


End file.
